Entwined Across The Skywinder
by SideshowJazz1
Summary: Sapphire Sage never asked to have superpowers, much less be a superhero. But when a boy at her school catches a glimpse of her powers and encourages her, she feels more optimistic about it. But when one becomes disillusioned and angry, the other wants to look out for him. But when you know it's wrong, how far does your loyalty go? Eventual Syndrome/OC.
1. Chapter 1: First Friend

**A/N: Okay, okay, I know this is probably a tired and done cliché after almost fifteen years of this movie being adored and now having the sequel, but say what you will, fans are something I get. And Syndrome, despite being a villain, was once a Mr Incredible fanboy called Buddy Pine. However, I get the feeling that the character deserves a bit more about him. I'll try not to "Draco In Leather Pants" him or "Ron The Death Eater" any member of the family, but here's my attempt at Syndrome/OC.**

 **Plot: Sapphire Sage knows very little about her birth parents, since they died when she was only two and since then, she's lived a relatively normal life with loving adopted parents. But when her emotions and her hands turn a breeze into a swirling vortex, she realizes immediately that she was born a super, and wants nothing to do with it. But eight-year-old Buddy, desperate to be a super himself, befriends Saffy and they soon become fast friends. But when Buddy uses his brains and tries to turn his dream into a reality with Saffy by his side, soon enough, his hurt feelings turn that into a nightmare. But..well, if he has one super that will be willing to stick by him, maybe, just maybe there's something that can be salvaged...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything from _The Incredibles._ Everything you recognize belongs to Pixar and Brad Bird. All I own is Saffy.**

 **Also, a big thank you to someone else (you know who you are) who helped me think of Saffy's superpowers and let me talk through my ideas with him.**

"She is, like, a total geek!"

I didn't look up as I heard Gabby Rivers' comment. My eyes focused on my book. It wasn't like I cared what she had to say, whether it was about me or not.

"You know," I heard her friend Jess Turnpick giggle, "We should see what she looks like with a skinhead cut! It's not fair, she's one of the only kids in school with red hair and she doesn't even deserve it. It's not like she does anything with it!"

I started trying to tune them out. It was true that I never bothered to do much with my long red hair. I usually left it loose and just brushed it silky, or put it in a ponytail. Oh well, at least it meant that even the popular kids wanted something I had.

If you were wondering, I wasn't totally little Saffy-No-Friends. I'd only been at this new school for a month, and eight-year-olds don't always accept you straightaway, especially when you were as shy as I was. It didn't help that my new teacher, not knowing my nickname, introduced me as "Sapphire" so even though most kids and teachers alike called me Saffy by now, I was sure no kid in my class had forgotten. It took about two weeks for the popular girls to start gossiping about me, or ganging up on me. They hadn't started in on me yet, apart from talking, but it was only a matter of time, so I was going to enjoy reading my book while I still could.

I just hoped they wouldn't push me too far. So far, I'd kept myself in check, but who knew how long I could do that? It was only a matter of time, but it would be much better if "a matter of time" meant it only happened after I'd finished high school.

What would happen? Well, I'd usually put it this way: I had friends at my old school, but not many. I hadn't made any friends here yet, but if they knew more about me, there was no way that would ever change.

"Hey, _Scarlet-head."_ Oh, great, they'd arrived.

I looked up from my book for a moment. "Gabby, Jess." I greeted them unenthusiastically. But I was too shy to suggest that they might spend their time better if they didn't talk to me. The words were in my head: " _Don't you have anything better to do than talk to the geek?"_ But the words just wouldn't come.

"Watcha reading?" Jess asked, her eyes sparkling maliciously.

"Something." I mumbled.

"And it sounds like you're not enjoying it." Gabby added with a giggle. "Maybe you'd rather read something else."

"Or nothing." Jess added, hammering her point in by snatching my book off me and dropping it onto the grass, which had recently been rained on. Then, she stamped on it, driving it further and further into the mud. After that, the two girls just watched me rescue the book, all over mud and covering my hands in sloppy clay. A lump formed in my throat as I looked at my ruined paperback, but I held back the tears.

And the girls didn't say anything. They just stood there, watching – and I think that's what made me mad.

It got all blurry after that. I think I dropped my book (on concrete this time), and moved my hands out and in, concentrating of the feeling of the air that rushed past each time I moved it. Then, when I looked up, there it was – a tornado, a twister, localised on just the side of the court. I was still standing there, my ponytail blowing back and my feet firmly on the ground. But Gabby and Jess were being pulled into the treacherous wind, their screams loud enough to attract the attention of every kid on the court, if not everyone in the whole school and beyond.

I hadn't meant to do it. But they'd destroyed one of my favourite books, and it just made me so furious. I couldn't stop myself from fighting back, and this was my only way to fight back. It was what I was afraid of, happening right in front of me. And once I'd brought the tornado into existence, I had to let it run its course.

I'd known all my life that I'd had different parents to the ones I'd been brought up with. I'd been orphaned when I was two years old, and I remembered nothing about my biological parents – I hadn't even been told anything about them. But I'd always had these things...strange supernatural powers that no one else had – and if they did, they hid them a lot better than me. I didn't lose my temper often, but when I did, that was when my powers spun out of control. Usually, I could only create a strong gust of wind, even when my instincts took over and did it for me. That tornado meant that my powers were only getting stronger, and that thought scared me.

Okay, so the two girls were fine. The tornado was small enough, and after pulling them into the vortex and spinning them around off the ground for a couple of minutes, the tiny thing had run its course and let me go. But they looked at me again, their faces now not only malicious but terrified, and then they turned and walked away. They still shot poisonous looks at me, but said nothing.

As for the other kids, they looked at me, terror and suspicion written all over their faces. But then they seemed to forget about it and went back to whatever they were doing.

I was going to go and look for a way to clean off my book and my hands, but before I could do a thing, I was waylaid by a boy. He was about my age, but he wasn't in my class. He had bright eyes and looked a little dorky, but I didn't mind.

"That was _so_ cool, what you just did." he said, giving me a smile that gave off more light than the sun. "I've always wanted to do something like that whenever I see someone getting teased or picked on, but..." he shrugged. "I'm not ready yet."

I was confused. "What do you mean?" my mouth said, forgetting to be shy.

"That tornado superpower." the boy said, grinning. "I've seen those girls getting at you before. How come you haven't used that? Is there some kind of code in your family or something about not doing it? Cause if I had that, I'd use it all the time."

I could feel my face getting hot. Did he really think it was a cool power? "I didn't mean to." I mumbled. "Those girls just made me mad, and I kind of lost it. I didn't even know I could make tornadoes – before I've only done strong winds. I don't like standing out."

The boy's eyes became even brighter. "You can manipulate wind?" he breathed. "I would love to do that! Why don't you do it more? You could be a child superhero – that's my dream! And yet you don't want it? Come on – if you accepted you had this power, maybe you could learn to control it so you wouldn't have to use it if you didn't want to."

He had a point. But I didn't want to be a superhero. We saw them all the time on TV, saving their respective cities. There were several local ones, although I'd never actually seen any of them. The idea of having to answer questions on TV was terrifying.

"I don't know..." I said slowly.

"Come on!" the boy insisted. "If you got used to it, maybe you'd like it more! All the great supers embraced their powers and worked hard to control and use them before they became supers! And..." he grinned. "I'm starting to develop some ideas on how to invent devices so I can be a super, too. We could learn a lot from each other. Don't you want to save the world, just once?"

Well, I looked at him. In a way, he reminded me of a puppy, playful and friendly and just wanting so much to be social with me. I didn't want to disappoint him. And, to be honest, I could tell that he wanted to be my friend. Even if it was just because I had superpowers.

But it didn't seem like it was because he wanted glory and it came with my superpowers – more like he really looked up to me, even though it was a power given to me just because my parents were supers (yeah, they died on missions – that's why I'm orphaned) and wanted to help me accept it. Besides, I haven't made any friends yet. Wouldn't it be better to have one friend than none?

So, I managed a smile. "I guess that might be a good idea. I'm not sure I want to save the world, but maybe I could. I didn't think of my powers being useful. If you help me work with them and get some control, maybe I can help you with your inventions."

The boy gave his million-dollar grin again. "Great! Oh...and by the way, I'm Buddy. Buddy Pine."

I smiled again, more genuinely this time. "My name's Saffy. Well, Sapphire, actually, but everyone calls me Saffy."

At that moment the school bell rang for the end of break. "I better go." I said with a sigh. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Bye!" Buddy said cheerfully, and he left for his own class. I walked back to mine, feeling more optimistic than I ever had at school before.

 **They have met! And although they are only eight now, this still takes place some time before the Incrediboy incident. Buddy hasn't created any of his superhero inventions yet – he's still working on them. And Saffy needs to start working on her own powers.**


	2. Chapter 2: Power Practice

**Okay, second chapter! I hope this one will work out OK. Thanks for reviewing, Nicky Haugh and Disneyheart3.**

In the first couple of weeks after Buddy and I met, we started hanging out together during breaks. We learned quite a lot about each other. We were both eight as I'd guessed, I was into art while he was into maths and science, and we both liked the creative parts of our favourite subjects (science meant experimenting).

I didn't want to practise my superpowers where anyone could see us, so we mostly talked, sharing ideas and random information about ourselves. The practising would be outside of school.

Most of my friends up until then had been girls, and it did feel a little strange for my only friend in school to be a boy. But Buddy was easy to talk to – he wasn't intimidating, so it was easy to get over my shyness, and even if being a super had been a starting point to our friendship, he only seemed to like me more, the more he knew about me.

"I know what it's like to get teased." he admitted one day. "The other kids sometimes get at me, too. They've been leaving me alone since we became friends, though."

"Safety in numbers." I surmised. "Besides, you've told me about the inventions you're working on. How many people will be sorry they messed with you when they're done?"

"Don't worry – I'm not in it for the revenge." Buddy laughed. "Who cares about a bunch of dumb kids who need to pick on others? Nah, I only bother about people who matter. If one of them lets me down, that's it – but I never needed to trust these people, so they didn't get a chance to let me down."

I shivered. "Well, I just hope I never let you down."

Buddy laughed again. "That's why I tell you to practise your powers, Saffy. Otherwise, you'd be letting both me and yourself down."

So, less than a month after we met, we arranged to spend a Saturday together- the whole day at my house. "We don't need to do anything special." I told Mom. "We've already made plans about what to do."

"Well, as long as you don't knock the house down." Mom joked. "So, is this your first date?"

" _Mom_!" I knew I was blushing. "He's just a friend! I don't want boyfriends. And if I ever say I do, you can assume I've been abducted by aliens!"

That Saturday was actually a lot more fun than I expected. Even though I'd never tried to access my superpowers before, I didn't find it that hard.

"It seems sort of natural." I confided to Buddy.

"I'm pretty sure the power is natural." he guessed. "You just don't know it because you've never tried to use it before. It comes naturally to you, sort of like how math comes naturally to me. It's the same as talent or instinct. It's like after you've learned to read, you can't look at a word and not read it."

I paused, thinking. "I wonder," I said out loud, "If I can cause winds, can I stop them too?"  
"Try it!" Buddy encouraged.

It was much easier to bring a breeze in than calm it down. I didn't have to concentrate too hard to make the wind blow the way I wanted, although I still couldn't quite get a handle on giving it the right strength, but I had to think calmness really hard to bring it down. I took five tries before I could calm down the regular wind...and the second I got distracted, it went back to normal.

"Wow." Buddy's eyes widened. "Your power is stronger than I thought. You don't just make winds – you manipulate the air."

I frowned. "Manipulate?"

"It means you can basically move the air anywhere, or keep it still." Buddy explained. "You might even be able to fly at some point if you make the air move underneath you so you rise above it." He gave a gasp. "Okay, now I really need to get to work on my rocket boots. I can't be left in the dust by you!"

We were in my backyard, so I sat down on the steps. "Is that one of the inventions you're working on? We've been working on my powers for a while. It's your turn to tell me about your developments."

"Okay." Buddy flopped down beside me, and started outlining everything. Rocket boots were just one thing he was working on – shoes that let him fly. "It's the only one I've actually made progress on past designing." he admitted. "I have a pair of shoes that I'm trying to attach the rockets to. I think I'm close, though – I've done a few tests, but the last one let me hover up a few inches for only a few seconds. Once I find a source that lets me fly up higher and not drop, that'll be it."

His other ideas included powered forcefields that could either protect the person or paralyze threats, and self-aware weapons that could search for a target, like grenades. However, he'd only designed those and were planning to work on gathering parts for them once the rocket boots were done.

"I've wanted to be a superhero since I was three years old." Buddy said, sounding a little bit proud of sticking to a dream for so long. "Invention came naturally to me, so I figured that if I couldn't be born with superpowers like other supers, then I'd just make them myself. Supers usually only have one or two powers that they can't choose, but I can!"

"I wonder if there's a reason." I said thoughtfully. "Why I can move the air around, that is."

Buddy thought a little bit about it. "I don't know, but my guess is that you can stand against pressure, like winds, and use that pressure against others. You've been standing against pressure like those popular girls at school, after all. We'll have to work on tornadoes once you're ready." It was true that whenever I created wind, the only thing of mine that reacted was my hair.

"Well, I need to work on controlling the levels of winds, first." I smiled. "It's not enough to get a light breeze when I expect a hurricane, or a wind that pushes you away when I meant it to do very little."

We both laughed. "It'll come with time." Buddy said confidently. "Think about it – last month, you only ever managed to do a thing if you got out of control. Now, you're intentionally doing it. You are going to be one tough super when you're ready!"

Although I still didn't want to be a supehero, always in the public eye and having to save the world, I didn't argue. I just smiled and laughed.

After that first Saturday, Buddy and I met up out of school every week, sometimes after school, sometimes on weekends. We alternated homes, mostly, but we always did most of the same things. I practised my powers for a while. Then, if we were at Buddy's, he'd show me the designs and the progress on the rocket boots and I'd offer suggestions (at mine, we'd just bounce ideas off each other for future inventions and features on the current ones). Then we'd just hang out, chatting and laughing.

I remember the first time I saw Buddy's room. I'd expected it to have superhero stuff in it, since it was kind of his thing, but I didn't realize he had one major idol. The poster above the headboard, though, spelled it out perfectly.

"I didn't know you were into just one superhero!" I exclaimed. "So you want to be like Mr Incredible?"

"Just the name sounds cool!" Buddy pointed out. "And he's a local super – what could be better? And I like all the other ones – just, I see him on the news all the time, and he's everything I've ever wanted to be. You've watched Superman cartoons, right?"

I made a face. "Superman can fly. We're both going to be able to fly. Mr Incredible is a hero, but his powers aren't...well, super strength is about it. We're going to both have way more than that. Although, I'll admit," I said with a thoughtful smile, "He's a lot easier on the eyes than Superman, especially since Superman is all serious and stoic in the comics and the cartoons. At least Mr Incredible is a bit more smiley on the interviews."

It was true – it was kind of hard to live in a city in this country where there wasn't a local super – or more than one. They all wore masks, and apparently lived double lives, but we often saw them fighting different crime sprees and sorting random incidents on the local news. Personally, I wished there were more superhero girls, but by far, the super who got on the local news station the most was Mr Incredible.

"I just think it's amazing that he only has that one superpower and still manages to own every fight he takes on!" Buddy said firmly. "That's why he's my role model. Trust me, I might not have the same superpowers once my inventions are done, but I'll be just as big a hero as him!"

And at that moment, I believed him. I really believed him. Buddy was so lively, so full of excitement, that everything he truly believed in, I did too. It was why he was such a good friend. He believed in me, enough that he made me believe in myself.

Huh. Maybe I would be a superhero one day. Once I got over my crippling shyness.

 **Oh, Saffy, people can be shy without being scared of being interviewed. Making friends and public speaking are way different. I'm sure you'll do fine...**


	3. Chapter 3: Harsh Hero

**Okay, so I'm pretty sure you have a handle on Buddy and Saffy's friendship as kids. But they've got middle school, high school and adulthood ahead of them, so let's take a look. Thanks for your uniform review, Nicky Haugh.**

Buddy and I stayed friends all through elementary school. We graduated sixth grade just before we turned twelve, and our plan was to make that summer our best ever. We'd already started making plans.

As for superpowers? Well, I'd had a scary experience in one end-of-year test where we had to do a creative piece of writing, and almost believed what I was writing was real. I actually _saw_ it for a few seconds, until I shook myself out of the state of mind and came back to the classroom. That's when I realized I could conjure illusions – but if I did it for too long, my mind began to see it too and believe it was real. If I kept it up for a short amount of time, though, I would still be able to see what was real and only blind whoever I wanted to blind.

When Buddy let me practise on him, he marvelled. "I can't think of _any_ way to make a gadget that does that! If I didn't know you were doing it, I'd seriously believe I was actually on a pony trek – I can only see it, but it's so real that I almost believe I'm hearing and feeling everything too!"

I let the illusion go after he said that. "Well, that ought to stop any villain in their tracks!" I grinned.

Buddy had been working a lot harder on his own gadgets, too. The rocket boots had been tested and even improved by the end of fifth grade, but he'd been gathering a lot more parts since then for other inventions. None of them were actually finished as we were still young and needed to save up for more, as well as making them convenient (the rockets were attached to the shoes, but a lot of the others needed to be small enough to carry around).

My air manipulation was also improved. If I concentrated enough, I could just about get the air to lift me off the ground, but only a little bit so far. I had, however, managed to practise enough to get the amount of wind I expected each time I tried.

Other things had changed, too. Buddy had finally gotten me into watching Mr Incredible's missions on the news regularly. I'd even joined the fan club. I mean, secretly, my favourite local super was Elastigirl, an agile superwoman who could stretch any part of her body into any shape – that was such a cool power, and she seemed so confident on interviews, the way I would have loved to be. But I had to admit that Mr Incredible was pretty cool. He even made time to have pictures taken and sign autographs for the fans, making public appearances. He was even friendly, asking us kids our names and acting like he really wanted to be there, having a bunch of under-eighteens clamouring for photos and signatures. And at the risk of having my best friend read this, I have to say it – Buddy was the absolute worst for that. He knew more about Mr Incredible than any other fan, and wanted him to know it.

I never said anything to Buddy, but I would sometimes give him little looks whenever I got the feeling Mr Incredible was getting really annoyed with him, looking at each of them. Sometimes Buddy took the hint, but not always.

Apart from that, we'd also both started working on our own superhero outfits. Buddy had chosen to have primarily blue, cape and all. I'd decided to forego the cape as it would probably get in the way of my air manipulation and blow around (I'd only grown my hair halfway to my waist, and I needed to keep it in a ponytail. I kept my outfit simple – a white jumpsuit with a black "S" on it. However, we both had the most important thing – superhero masks that kept our regular identities a secret.

Then, the day came. It was my twelfth birthday in August. I mean, it started off well. My parents gave me the new clothes I'd wanted and a delicate silver chain with a cloud with a lightning bolt charm. I hadn't wanted a major celebration, because although I had a few girl friends by then, I was only casual friends with them, and if I had to choose to spend any time with one friend, I'd choose Buddy every time. I hadn't told any of my other friends that it even _was_ my birthday.

Buddy and I had arranged to meet up in the afternoon at the nearest park, and for whatever reason, he wanted us to wear our superhero outfits. When I arrived, he was already there. "Happy birthday!" he greeted me, holding out a box. "Open this – I've got an idea we should try soon, and you'll need these"

There they lay, in the box. My very own pair of rocket boots, in the right size – really cute little black ankle boots. And to think – those things could make me fly far higher than the air I could push below me.

And on the sole of the left, Buddy had written _To my best friend forever and future superhero Saffy – saving the world together!_

I couldn't resist hugging him right there, in public. "This is possibly my best birthday ever! I can't wait to try these out."

"Don't worry," Buddy's grin was the million-dollar one I liked seeing, "After my plan works out, we're going to be using them a lot."  
"What's your plan?" I asked curiously.

"Well, you know how I'm trying to make my own superpowers? I still need to learn about being a superhero, and prove that I have what it takes." As Buddy spoke, I nodded. "And you want to learn more about using your powers, right? Well...I was thinking...I've been planning to ask Mr Incredible for advice next time he turns out for our fan club. Then I thought, well, if we've already got the superpowers, maybe we could offer to help him out?"

I frowned. "But doesn't he like to work alone?"

Buddy shrugged. "Only because there's no one else like him. He's buds with all the other supers in town. You can't tell me that it was coincidence, that time he showed up when Frozone already had things under control. Here we are, a couple of kids inspired to take over once he finishes hero work. He's been saying on the interviews he sometimes feels overworked – he'd be happy of the help."

"That's true." I said thoughtfully. "He's complaining about how he has to save the world once, and then it immediately needs saving again. You're right." I decided. "Let's do it!"

But as it turned out, we didn't need to wait as long as we thought. That very afternoon, later on, when we were hanging around talking and were just about to go home (it was almost sunset), a familiar-looking car pulled up a few feet away on the sidewalk.

I nudged Buddy as we watched the fair-haired superhero step out and help an old woman get her cat out from a tree.

"Now?" he whispered.

"Now." I agreed, and we jumped into the passenger seat at the same time, just before Mr Incredible got in.

"What the-" he began. "Who are you two supposed to be?"

"I'm _Incrediboy_!" Buddy declared (I hadn't worked out a superhero name for myself, but Buddy had told me this secret name, although "Once I get to be a superhero on my own, I'll choose a different one").

"Sorry if we surprised you, but we're here for a reason." I began in a tiny voice, but Mr Incredible talked over me.

"No...you're those kids from the fan club." He looked at Buddy first. "Brof...no, Brody...Buddy! And you..." He looked at me. "Sophie...no, wait...S..."  
"Saffy." I muttered quietly. "Short for Sapphire."

Buddy was starting to look impatient. "My name is Incrediboy!" he insisted.

Mr Incredible looked pretty impatient, too. "I've been nice, I've stood for photos, I've signed every scrap of paper you've pushed at me, but-"

Okay, if he got mad, this wasn't going to work. "Mr Incredible," I said, trying hard to keep my voice confident, "We're not just fans. We came here to offer you help. We want to be supers too, but we have to start somewhere. We have powers – we just figured someone like you would be a great mentor."

"But you don't have to worry about training us!" Buddy added ."We've been doing that on our own! We know your moves, your crime-fighting stances, your catchphrases, everything! Well, I do."

"I've learnt most of it from him." I murmured.

"We're your number-one fans!" Buddy added, giving him that eager puppy look he'd given me, that first day we'd become friends.

We got blasted out of the car for that compliment.

"Well, he sure was friendly then." I muttered. "I guess he just wants to keep up appearances in front of the older fans, but we're just a couple of little kids to him, so we don't matter."

"He just didn't get the message." Buddy said, shrugging. "We'll have to prove it to him, I guess."

Well, we tried, later that night. If only we'd chosen a less busy time! We made mistakes, I'll say that. We caught up with the guy via flying, but when we broke in to face a supervillain with him, all we got was a "go home". Even the villain seemed to think we were hopeless – I don't know what he was saying in French, but I picked up a little bit of the phrases that were similar to English and he definitely called us ridiculous.

We tried our best, we really did. It wasn't our fault the supervillain planted an explosive on Buddy when he offered to fetch the police. It wasn't our fault that when Mr Incredible went after him that I couldn't do a thing to stop that villain escaping since he ducked under where I was sending the wind and he got out of range before I could make an illusion for him.

All we got for our trouble was a ride in a police car and a caution, and when Buddy tried to protest the name Mr Incredible called him, insisting on Incrediboy, Mr Incredible just snapped "You're not affiliated with me!"

"It's not fair." I said as we were driven away. I may not have thought Mr Incredible was as wonderful as Buddy did, but I'd been hurt by the way he dismissed us. Sure, maybe we should have tried when he wasn't going after someone so dangerous, but he had no right to throw us out of the car before hearing us out, and then yelling at us. All we were trying to do was help.

"I don't care." Buddy mumbled. "It's time I let go of him, anyway. He's not the hero I thought he was."

And trust me, things didn't get any better when I was forced to explain to my parents what I'd been doing. At least they didn't tell me I couldn't hang out with Buddy any more – they accepted we were just kids and probably would have learned from this. But I was still in major trouble – grounded for the rest of the summer – no phone calls, no seeing friends, and no practising my powers.

It looked as if my unluckiest birthday had come a year early.

 **Poor Saffy! Okay, look, when I see this part of the movie, I may have tried to make Mr Incredible a little more harsh than he really was, but that's because Saffy's seeing it, and she is naturally on the side of the child who wants to help, not the adult who knows it's too dangerous and is too hassled to explain properly. Now, we know this scene as kind of a turning point – a point that would eventually bring Syndrome into existence (as an identity), but don't be too quick to judge. Not even Buddy realizes who he'll become yet. Just keep reading...**


	4. Chapter 4: Infuriating Identity

**Okay. Summer's over. Time to go into junior high school! Thanks for reviewing, Nicky Haugh (although all your reviews are identical...) and Spectral Rewind.**

I hated my first day of junior high. Seventh grade was never going to be easy, but I was terrified of the kind of things I'd heard, and too shy to ask questions of people I hadn't met. So that left a very small amount of people I could ask for directions, and most of them didn't know the answers either.

I met up with Buddy at lunch, but that was the only time we saw each other. We compared timetables, and it turned out we weren't in any of the same classes. Buddy was in major advanced classes for most sciences and things like that, while I was stuck in the standard ones. We were mostly in different sets for everything.

It was actually the first time since my birthday that we'd seen each other, and although I'd felt humiliated and angry, I was mostly moving on. I knew straightaway that Buddy wasn't over it yet. He just had this...look, I don't know, like something had changed. He wasn't as enthusiastic about anything.

"Did your parents ground you too?" I asked at the start of lunchtime.

"Yeah." he muttered, not looking at me. "It sucks. But at least it gave me time to work on the paralysis forcefield."

"You didn't tell me you'd got everything for that." I remarked. "When was that?"

"Last week. They let me out once. I wanted to throw out all my old posters from my bedroom."

"Oh." There wasn't much to say to that. He'd had most of those posters for ever – Mr Incredible posters, and pictures from magazines.

"You know," I said, attempting humour, "You could always make Elastigirl your new idol."

Buddy smiled briefly, but then his face became stony again. "I'm through with believing in supers, Saffy. You're the only super I _want_ to be around. We'll prove we're better heroes once all my inventions have been finalized. We can work together – just us, because I know I can count on you."

But all the same, we had to keep it a secret from then on. It was just as well I had good control over my powers by that time. That year was a bad time for superheroes. Some guy who Mr Incredible had saved from suicide sued him, and that started a string of law suits – not only in our city, but everywhere else in America. By October, all supers had disappeared to different towns and cities, assuming their anonymous identities. And as for acts of superheroism? Well, using their powers to fight crime was illegal.

"But making inventions that imitate superpowers isn't." Buddy pointed out when I brought this up one day. "And wearing superhero outfits isn't, either. I'll add features to both our supersuits – although I need to make a new one for myself – then we'll have all the same powers. Then maybe I could work on making something that gives me your natural power."

"I think we should just work together." I said quietly. "I'll continue with my air manipulation and illusions, and you work on the paralyzing thingy. We can both fly."

"I'm also working on weapons." Buddy told me in an even quieter voice. "And other little inventions – stuff I can start selling. Then when we leave school, I'll have enough money to create an amazing home base for us."

"Well," I said lamely, "I guess I can get a job at fourteen so I can support us, too..."

"Don't worry about it." Buddy said with a shrug. "I don't want anything from you except moral support. And I'd like you to help me, but you don't have to."

"Excuse me? I do have to!" I exclaimed. "What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn't help you? You helped me develop my powers. You were my friend when most people only wanted to make fun of me. It's about time I proved that I can be just as good a friend to you as you've always been to me."

We worked on that all through junior high. Although Buddy wasn't anywhere near as bright and idealistic as he'd been when we were kids, he still lit up when he was working on inventions or talking about his plans. Even working on his supersuit inspired him.

One day, near the end of seventh grade, he commented "I need a new identity, too. I don't even want a secret identity – I just want _one._ And it's not Buddy Pine. Or _Incrediboy._ " He practically spat out his old superhero name. "And you need to find a superhero name too, Saffy. You can have two identities, if you want."

"So...once you find a new name, you won't want to be called Buddy anymore?" I ventured.

Buddy shrugged. "My parents will probably call me that. And the teachers. I'll wait until I leave school to take on the name I choose permanently. But once I choose it, I'll want you to call me that."

I smiled. "It might take some time to get used to, but I'll do it. Just remind me if I forget. Once I choose a superhero name, though, you can still call me Saffy. Unless we're presenting as heroes and I don't want people to know who I am, of course."

"Of course." Buddy nodded. "And I don't expect you to come up with something right off the bat. I've already been trying to think of one for months and nothing seems right. I keep thinking of variations of names other supers have, and I don't want to copy them. Ever."

I didn't remind him that before the summer, all he'd ever wanted to do was be like them.

"Maybe you could come up with something that sounds...less flashy?" I suggested. "They're all pretty showy names. Maybe something that doesn't say your superpower, as well – a lot of superhero names do that."

"And my superpower is?"

I had an answer ready. "The fact that you can create your own powers. It's your mind – the way you invent stuff. You're a super genius."

"Well," Buddy said slowly, "Maybe my new identity can have something to do with the mind..." He looked really thoughtful, but he didn't tell me what he was thinking that day.

I couldn't help thinking about my own superhero name. I didn't necessarily have to use it, not unless supers were legalized again. But it was tempting to think of one – maybe it would make me feel confident if I wore my mask and no one had to know I was Sapphire Sage, the shyest girl in seventh grade.

I didn't manage to think of anything until that summer, just before I turned thirteen (which was a _much_ better birthday than my twelfth). I'd been mulling over what to call a girl who could move oxygen, winding it around, and around, when it came to me. I'd heard of the video game Skylanders, so that gave me a hint. When I put my mask on, I would have a totally different identity, but the initial on my supersuit would remain the same. All right, I'd outgrown that particular suit, but it didn't matter. I'd make another one when the time came for my mask to fit again.

Buddy hadn't thought of a new name either, during the year. We didn't meet up until after my birthday, when the sales were all screaming "Back to school" and we were prepared to start eighth grade.

"Thinking of a new name isn't easy." he admitted at the time. "I've been working on making the paralysis forcefield more convenient, and that needs my full attention. But...well, I've got it sorted. I'm wearing it now." That's when I noticed the white bracelet on his wrist.

"Is it okay if I test it on you?" Buddy asked. Sometimes his questions were more like plans, but this one was definitely a request. "I'll do it on someone else if you don't want me to, but I haven't had anything I could test it on yet-"

"I'm strong, I can take it." I assured him. "Hit me."

A blast of power soared out of his pointer finger. And okay, being fair, it didn't hurt. It did feel a bit weird, but anything would feel weird when literally the only part of my body that would move was my lips – I could talk, but that was it. I floated a few inches above the ground in this purplish cloud – it was pretty cool.

"Well, if you can't tell how hard I'm trying to move my head right now, you've got one powerful invention." I said.

Buddy let me down and grinned. "And the best thing is, this charm lets it look as it's me doing that." he said, tapping the white bracelet. "It'll go well with my new supersuit, too. I remembered the black and white one you had, and I kind of decided to copy a little bit. I hope you don't mind?"

Well, no, I didn't. While mine was white with a black initial, his was black with a white initial. And his one had an "S" on it as well.  
"I guess you still found time to choose a name in the end?" I guessed, smiling. "So did I. So what does the S stand for?"

"Tell me your supername first." Buddy suggested – although I guessed he wouldn't let me call him that for much longer.

I struck a pose. "Behold the power of the girl who can wind the air of the sky to her bidding – Skywinder!" I couldn't help giggling. "I think I'm going to like having a new name. But I'll stick to Saffy most of the time, of course."

"I hate that most people will still call me Buddy." my friend muttered. "But whatever, I'll know who I am on the inside."

"And so, what's your new name?" I asked, my interest rising by the moment.

"Well, you know how you said my superpower is my mind? Well, I kind of thought about it. Everyone who's said to have a supermind is also said to have something wrong with them. Einstein was autistic. Beethoven was bipolar. Nikola Tesla – he's like me, an inventor – was obsessive-compulsive. Do you know how many of these people had what was treated as problems, yet everyone knows who they are? Well, I'm turning that around. I'm proud that I could, one day, be among those people, and so I am going to prove it, by choosing a name, that I think would resonate with them."

Okay, this was a long speech. I knew exactly how passionate my best friend got about his cause, but I hadn't expected all these stats.

Then, he finally said it, a name that, despite the efforts to turn it positive, would make me feel strange every time I heard it.

"And from now on until the day I die, my true name will be..."

I waited for it.

"... _Syndrome._ "

 **Okay, I think I put this chapter off for a while. I was trying to think of a way to explain why anyone would choose a name that is given to mental disabilities. But then, I thought about it. If Syndrome was real, he'd probably be an eccentric genius, like the people I mentioned. Creative people are far more likely to struggle with mood or behavioural disorders, and also lots of country leaders, whether they were warmongers, dictators or fair leaders. Lots of musicians, artists and writers, too. So what did you think of my reasoning for Syndrome renaming himself that?**


	5. Chapter 5: Daydreamer Dates

**Right. Okay. So we've seen seventh grade. There's no point in doing eighth grade. We're skipping to high school. Thanks for reviewing, Pokemon FTW, Whiteink254 and Spectral Rewind. The other "review" is not a review, but in answer, it's more of a writing exercise and you'll recognize the later ones are better than the older ones because they have more original dialogue and changes.**

Hearing my friend's new name coming out of my mouth never got any easier for me. Even by junior year, although I'd gotten used to calling my friend Syndrome, I still missed calling him Buddy. That's because, ever since we were kids, he was _my_ best buddy – the person who I could always count on. While I could still count on him, something just didn't seem the same. We were now sixteen, and still best friends, but I had started feeling like something was missing from our friendship. It was like there was something in there I'd never even noticed until it had gone.

It wasn't just that there was something missing – also, sometimes, I wasn't sure if Syndrome was the same as the Buddy Pine I'd grown up with. Sure, he still looked the same, but the way his eyes used to light up when he had an idea – every time they did that now, they seemed to have a different expression in them. I wasn't sure what it was. It was as if my best friend had been abducted by aliens, experimented on, then returned to Earth – but with some minor changes.

We shared a few classes this year, which was good. It meant we mostly studied for tests together. And Syndrome was a good teacher, the way he was back when I was practising my powers. We almost always aced our exams in the subjects we shared. Of course, I was stuck on my own in standard Math, and Spanish class – while I was good at it, I didn't usually get top marks. But for every other class, I was passing comfortably, to say the least.

I guess I could say that it wasn't until the end of junior year that either of us realized what was missing. We hadn't discussed it, of course, but one thing that hadn't changed was how I read Syndrome. There were little awkward moments where we made eye contact, and we both knew the other felt it, too. Anyway, it was around the time of homecoming. I wasn't hoping to be chosen as the princess for junior year or anything, of course – there were more girls that were far more confident, prettier, more popular, and smarter. I didn't want all eyes on me, anyway. But as I was just finishing my homework, I started imagining myself in a (more updated, slimmer fitting) version of my supersuit, but with a tiara, smiling confidently (sort of assuming the same expression as Elastigirl had in those old interviews – I still looked up to her, no matter what she was doing now)...and then I saw Syndrome standing there next to me, in, again, the updated version of the supersuit, and also with a crown, although like my tiara, it wasn't elaborate. We were close to the same height, so I couldn't tilt my head noticeably enough to make it look cute (I'd always been small for my age, and he was too, but taller than me, being a guy), but the expression on my face in the daydream when I looked at him was unmistakable. The smile got softer, a faint blush appeared on the cheeks. And as for him? Well, it wasn't mine. But the expression in it, I could tell, was exactly the –

I snapped out of it, just before it stopped being a daydream and turned into one of my illusions that affected me too much.

But that's when it hit me. I still didn't want to be a homecoming princess, or even the homecoming queen next year. But didn't you imagine yourself in all sort of fairytale guises when you really wanted something?

When I was eight years old, I had said that if I'd ever said I'd wanted a boyfriend, I was probably possessed. But now, I was totally me, Saffy Sage, or Skywinder, whatever you wanted to call me, and I had changed my mind. I wanted a boyfriend.

Well, okay. I wanted _Syndrome._ I couldn't imagine developing a crush on anyone else, no matter how gorgeous or funny or friendly they were. History trumped all, and Syndrome had done a lot for me over the years. I'd had almost no confidence as a kid, and his faith in my superpowers had been what gave me more confidence, take more risks, do a few things that were out of the norm. Sure, some of them had backfired, but I'd learned that taking risks was the thing to do.

I went and took out my first pair of rocket boots. I'd had to reattach the rocket part to new shoes once I outgrew them, but I'd kept the old ones, just because they were special. I read the inscription again. " _To my best friend forever."_ If I told him I wanted more than friendship, would we still even have that?

There was only one way to look for an answer without asking outright: Flirt. I could do that. I'd seen my other friends flirting often enough. I'd never tried it, but it didn't look too hard.

Well, okay. During that week, no matter how much makeup I wore, or how much skin I showed, or how much I laughed and talked with a little bit of a flirty side to it, Syndrome didn't seem to take the hint. It wasn't that he didn't seem interested. He didn't even give me any weird looks or cut my routine dead. He just flat out didn't seem to notice. I was being pretty obvious. Even some of the friends I'd made looked over and were giggling at me.

On Friday, my lab partner Emma actually whispered to me "Um, don't tell the other girls I said this, but that flirty routine you have is just far too obvious. You're meant to be _subtle._ "

I gave a sigh. "Well, why doesn't he seem to know I'm doing it, then?" I wailed. "He doesn't look at me like I'm being weird or giving any signs that he's not interested. He's still just acting like the same guy."

"You're lucky he doesn't think you're weird." was Emma's response. "But you're making a fool of yourself in front of everyone else by doing that. Tone it down, or I can't be seen with you."

I gave a nod.

It was only when we were both over at my house on Sunday. My parents were out. Usually we'd have a rule about boys being over, but Syndrome had been my best friend for so long that they had no problems with us being shut up together. We were working on testing out a new weapon – the sort of self-aware grenade that could be programmed to be given directions, enough to know what to hit. It knew how to explode on impact – we'd tested that already, but it hadn't yet learned to recognize different types of objects.

"We just need to be able to give it options it can recognize." I mused. "It needs to be able to know if it's going for a person, animal, robot, building-"

"Saffy, can we stop working on this for a second?"

I stared at Syndrome. I'd never even thought he'd want to stop working on something like that. His devices were like his kids. "Why?"

"We'll get back to it in a minute." Syndrome explained. "I just wanted to talk to you about something else. What you've been doing this week."

I froze. "You mean...you noticed?"

" _Everyone_ noticed." Syndrome deadpanned the statement. "Of course I did – you made it obvious. I just didn't want to get into it in the middle of the school. No one needed to know my response." He sighed. "But now, it's time you got my response."

"It's okay if you don't feel that way about me." I began to gabble. "I don't mind, we can still just be friends, or if you don't want me to, I can stay-"

I was cut off by way of my first kiss.

Thing was, I'd never really been interested in any other boys, and besides, most of them found me way boring or too quiet, just because I was shy. But now, here I was, being kissed by my best friend. Neither of us had ever kissed anyone before. And even though that was true, it was like there was real electricity crackling between us. Not because of the way the kiss felt – but just because it _was_ a kiss, and we both knew what it symbolized for our future.

Finally, we broke away. Syndrome smiled, his eyes lighting up in a way that they didn't often. "There's your answer." he said. "I've wanted to do that since we started high school, but the right time never came up until now. I got the feeling that if I didn't do it now, I'd never do it."

I grinned back, feeling pleasantly dizzy. "Does this mean we can date? Like, properly? And this means we can move in together once we leave school – that'll make working together a lot easier."

I wondered momentarily if I was moving too fast, but apparently I wasn't. Syndrome's expression was radiant. "Okay, we'll have to start organizing date nights. And I've started pitching some of my inventions to different corporations – as soon as I start distributing, the world is ours!"

I didn't need to look in my mirror to see my expression. I knew it was the same one. As long as we were working together, life was going to be a whole lot better.

After all, what could be better than dating your best friend?

 **Oh, I don't know...dating your best friend who doesn't hold a grudge against all superheroes and yet still wants to be one? Honestly, as bad as an animated villain can be, there are some motives I get. Seems like a lot of human Pixar villains just want attention and love/glory (seriously, go watch _Coco_ if you haven't already and you'll see that motive in the villain...and early on, the hero too).**


	6. Chapter 6: Diabolical Designs

**Elementary school, junior high school, high school...what comes next? Adulthood!**

I had thought about going to college once we graduated high school, I'll admit that, but Syndrome talked me out of it when I brought it up, about two months before graduation. I'd applied to a few already, but had yet to receive any acceptance or rejection letters back.

"What's the point?" he'd said. "We've already got plans about what to do when we graduate. I've even found a two-bedroom flat we can rent while we're still making enough money to put my plan into action."

"Wait, is there a new plan in motion?" I asked, detecting something different there.

"Not yet." Syndrome answered. "I have some idea of what else I'm going to do, but it's going to take a while – years, probably. I'm going to also have to build a supercomputer to keep all the info I need straight and probably hire some people to help. That's why we need to keep making new inventions – so I can sell them to take care of all the expenses."

Speaking of living together, our relationship seemed to be working out all right, except for one thing. I loved being able to have someone to hug me when I was having a bad day, or someone to give me confidence when I was down, and I liked being there to return those, but...well, there was something I didn't like so much. It was the physical stuff. I really didn't want to go far. Kissing was fine. Making out was fine, as long as I was still fully clothed. It was just...I never wanted to go any further – even just putting a hand underneath my blouse was enough to make me freeze up. I didn't know what it was. It definitely wasn't out of lack of lust – I couldn't get enough of it usually, but something held me back from ever wanting to be ready for more. And it wasn't lack of emotion, either – there was no one in the world I wanted more than Syndrome. If I ever met anyone else I could love in the same way, than it probably wouldn't have the strength – that strength came from years of close friendship.

Luckily, Syndrome didn't ask me too many questions when I froze or asked to stop. I was worried he'd think I was some kind of inexperienced baby, but really, I had nothing to worry about. We'd known each other for too long for him to really think that. Immediately, he'd just go back to talking about whatever we were talking about before getting in the romantic mood. Mostly, what we were making next.

It was the day before graduation, that he finally told me everything he was planning. "So, I've been thinking, Saffy. I know I haven't been telling you that much about my plans once I have all the funds. But, well, here it is – I want to introduce supers back into the community. And because we both have powers now that I'm fitted out with them and you've got both the ones I made and your regular ones, we'll get to be two of them."

"Uh-huh..." I said slowly. I wasn't sure where this was going. "I thought you hated supers."

"Not all supers." Syndrome shrugged. "I don't hate you. The other supers I'm going to talk to...I don't hate them, either – but I need them for my plan to work. The only one I really hate is Mr Incredible. He really needs to learn something. But we need to make sure we're absolutely invincible before we get to him. Besides, some supers will be harder to find than others – we'll have to start by tracking down the closest ones."

I nodded again. "So what's the plan?"

"We have to start tracking down former supers. Convince them to go back to their glory days undercover." Syndrome explained. "Once I make this new robot weapon I've designed – I haven't got a name for it yet, but once I have the funds, I'll start making it. I want them all to fight it, so that when one of them defeats it, I can use that to strengthen the next model. It needs to be completely invincible, so I can use a remote control to defeat it, but no other super can. Then, we'll unleash it on a city, defeat it, establish ourselves as new supers, and voila – the government will think about legalizing supers again, we'll be heroes, and then we can live the dream." He saw my anxiety written all over my face. "I know it's not fair to use trickery to prove ourselves, but an opportunity isn't going to drop out of the sky. We need to _make_ that opportunity."

"But...what about the supers who don't survive the robot?" I said in a small voice.

Syndrome shrugged. "I don't know yet. Maybe they'll live. Maybe they won't. It's not a big deal, really."

I didn't know how he could say that. But I promised I'd stick by him for ever. Maybe I could get him to soften his resolve? And, well, maybe some of the supers deserved it. I got nothing out of walking away from this deal. I had to stay in it.

"Okay." I said shakily. "That's a really good plan."

Syndrome kissed my cheek. "I knew you'd understand, Saffy...or should I call you Skywinder now?"

"Saffy to you." I said softly. "It'll always be Saffy to you, you know that. It's not like you – you abandoned your old name completely. I kind of like having two identities. You mentioned hiring people, right? _They'll_ know me as Skywinder." I managed a light smile. "Well, I guess that means I won't have people calling me Sapphire at all."

I didn't hate being called Sapphire, but the only time I ever got called that was when I was in trouble or by teachers, so I wouldn't mind leaving that name behind and just being Saffy Sage.

Next was telling my mom that I was moving out. She'd known I was planning to move in with Syndrome sometime after I turned eighteen, but she didn't realize I was leaving soon enough to already start clearing out my bedroom. I started the day after graduation in late June, even though I wasn't leaving until the week after my birthday.

"Are you sure about this, honey?" she asked, when she saw me making a pile of things I didn't want and packing the ones I did in boxes.

"Of course." I said, trying to sound more confident than I really felt. Don't worry, Mom, I'm not leaving forever. You'll still see me all the time, and I promise if anything doesn't feel right, I'll deal with it. But I'm not a little girl any more, and I need to start making my own life."

Mom sighed. "I forget how grown up you're getting. It seems like only yesterday your father and I brought you home, a little wide-eyed toddler. You were very small for your age, even then, and we just fell in love with you immediately."

I smiled. "I was lucky. I know there's a lot of adopted children who don't get parents that care about them. It doesn't matter one bit that you're not my first mom, because you've been my mom in every other way, and I wouldn't give up having you and Dad in my life for anything."

We shared a long, sentimental hug – sort of a turning-point hug, where I had finally left my childhood behind, and was looking towards my future as a woman.

The day I moved out of my parents' house, the day after I turned eighteen, was possibly both the saddest and most daunting day of my life. But it was also a happy time – a new beginning, a time to be brave and do something new, something I'd never even imagined before.

I didn't bring too much to the apartment – just three boxes of things I still wanted (including my rocket boots and paralysis console, as well as the stereo I got for my fourteenth birthday - it was outdated now that most people downloaded Spotify, but I didn't want to part with it or any of my CDs) and my mattress, bedspread and most of my clothes (including my supersuit), as well as the usual stuff I packed on holidays.

However, once everything was moved into its place and the two of us were alone in our apartment, Syndrome and I flopped down on our sofa (he'd bought most of the furniture second-hand – again, from profits of selling his inventions) and he finally told me about the developments in his plan. "I've designed the new robot weapon – it's just a matter of getting everything together and invented. But I've started looking for supers to take it on. Most of the old ones are listed – it's just a matter of hiring someone to help look for them. I've already heard of someone from the local college who might be able to help us out if we pay her enough."

I smiled. "That's good. I've always wondered where all of them went, anyway. Maybe some of them even relocated here – no one's going to recognize them because all we ever heard about in this city were the ones that lived here." I couldn't help smirking. "Although to be honest, I can't imagine any of them working a regular job or raising a family, can you?"

Syndrome shrugged, but he put his arm around me. "Some people can make time for a family _and_ heroics, but yeah, those ones couldn't. I bet they spend all their time kidding themselves that their jobs are making a difference. Whereas I can actually make a difference _without_ having to insist on working alone."

I leaned against him. "I like having someone to count on. We've always made the best team – and I guess I better start re-honing my powers. I've done barely anything since supers were made illegal."

Syndrome chuckled. "Superpowers weren't made illegal – just supers using their powers, which is why I'm allowed to use mine. Just practice yours privately. There's probably a lot of people who are doing the same If any supers have had kids by now, they'll have discovered their powers and started using them. What do you bet there's a five-year-old somewhere who teleports from their bedroom to the kitchen and back to get extra cookies ?"

I giggled. "Too bad I never got to do that. But walking on the air iis just as much fun as stealing cookies."

I'd stopped worrying about the supers not surviving our plans to make ourselves supers and get legalized. I'd even stopped worrying about what wed end up doing to Mr Incredible. We were two people on a mission!

 **That sounds cool and exciting when it's on paper, but as Saffy has to learn, it's not always that cool and exciting. It's going to be hard for her.**


End file.
